


poet

by lucigucci



Series: so you're a simp for elliot stardew valley... [4]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucigucci/pseuds/lucigucci
Summary: elliott's book has been published, and he invites you to the reading at the museumhttps://open.spotify.com/playlist/3pOoiImyTFyp6KqTSCbeXm?si=gTybXwwZQKO7aVnEBVviyA
Relationships: Elliott/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: so you're a simp for elliot stardew valley... [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123496
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	poet

Your mailbox is usually reserved for one of two types of letters: the first being a request from someone or another for materials or crops, the second being an invitation from the mayor to the latest townwide festival. 

The letter you find today doesn’t fit either of these categories.

Elliott has never sent you a letter until now. It’s short and to the point, despite the palpable joy in every line, and oh my god he’s never actually invited you anywhere before now! You’ve always been the one to “run into” him, like both of you don’t know that you make a habit of stopping by his house almost every day or seeking him out at the saloon every Friday night. But this… this is exactly the kind of change of pace you were hoping for.

At last, after who-knows-how-long of writing purgatory, he’s done it! His novel is finished!

You’ve only been allowed to read bits and pieces of it. When you asked him why not the whole manuscript, he said something along the lines of “do you ask to examine a potential friend’s skeleton before meeting them?” which didn’t and doesn’t make sense but you got the general idea anyway. The scenes that you did read were well-paced and riveting. If the rest of the book is just as good, it shouldn’t have any problem turning a profit, even in an agricultural town like Stardew Valley.

You’re sure to finish your chores early to make your way across town to the museum. Elliott’s letter is folded safely in your pocket like a good-luck charm. You hope that there’s a good turnout; you wouldn’t want Elliott to be disappointed, no matter how often he insists that he isn’t in the writing game for the glory. 

You aren’t disappointed. It seems like the whole town has showed up to the book reading. You’ve never seen the museum more packed with people. Each one is chatting and milling around, a little out of place but at ease nonetheless among their friends. It takes a few anxious seconds to pick Elliott out of the crowd, flaming red hair and gleaming smile, and at almost that exact moment, he finds you too, excusing himself from Leah’s side and weaving through the crowd. “You came!” he exclaims, almost disbelieving, even as he takes your hands and clasps them in his own. 

“Of course I came, Elliott! I wouldn’t miss a day like this for anything!” Your skin buzzes with excitement against his, and his grin makes you giddy.

“I couldn’t have finished my book without you. All of this was only possible thanks to your help.” When you try to protest, he continues, “please don’t be modest, I mean every word! Who was it who inspired me to keep going when I thought that all hope was lost?”

You want to curl in on yourself from embarrassment, and he must know it, because he raises your hands and brushes his lips over your knuckles. Shivers shoot down your arms from where his lips grace you. “Would you be able to stay until after the reading?” he asks. “I know you must be very busy, but I’m signing copies, and I would very much like to give you one. It’s the least I can do for my muse.”

It’s hard to respond over the wild thumping of your heart. With some difficulty, you nod. 

“Marvelous! I’ll see you soon!”

You’re left swaying on the spot, yearning for warmth that has long since gone to the front of the museum to present his work. 

As much as you try, it’s difficult to focus on Elliott’s reading, as your attention floats toward his lips above the page instead of the words they’re forming. You understand that the title of the novel is Camellia Station, and it’s about a train stewardess and an architect, and after that you’re lost. His voice carries, yet it’s gentle as the thin rays of autumn sun. Every sentence is melodic. Your heart swells with a mixture of pride and adoration.

Either he’s the greatest poet of the century, or you’re hopelessly in love.

All too soon, applause rings out around you, breaking the trance, and you hastily follow suit as he takes a bashful bow. “Thank you, everyone!” he says. “Remember, I’ll be selling and signing books if you want to pick up a copy for yourself!”

The hum of pleasant conversation returns to the museum. Elliott sits behind a desk, where about half the guests are already queuing up. You hasten to join the line. Penny, just in front of you, catches your eye. “You looked like you were really into the book,” she notes. “I didn’t think you were such an avid reader.”

“Oh--! I’m not, usually, but… this one is good. Really good.”

She tilts her head toward Elliott at his desk, then back to you with a knowing smile. “Go ahead, take my place in line.”

“Really? Thank you, but why--?”

She taps her nose and switches places with you. “I’m not in a hurry. You can take all the time you need with him.”

You’re about to thank her when Elliott calls your name. You turn around and accept the book from Elliott’s outstretched hands. “How was it?” he asks.

“It was amazing! _You_ were amazing!”

“I was so scared… public speaking has never been my forte. I just hope that my work spoke for itself.”

“Would I lie to you? Your book is great and you’re great. I mean, you-- you read it great. You sounded great.” You pat the cover of the one in your hand. “Um, anyway, is that free signature still up for grabs?”

He leans forward and taps the back of it with a smirk. “Already done. As soon as the first copies were printed, I saved one for you and wrote you something inside.”

You could melt right here if you didn’t have a desk to lean on. You start to open the book, but he stops you with a, “n-not yet! It’s… ahem, kind of personal.”

He might be blushing, although it’s hard to tell in the dusty museum light. You clutch the book tight to your chest. “Thank you,” you murmur.

“It’s I who should be thanking you-- so, ah, thank you. From the bottom of my heart.” He shifts in his seat and lowers his voice. “Not just for helping me with the book, but with… everything. I never knew I needed someone like you until you came along.”

You have to physically restrain yourself from closing the distance between you and kissing him. Somehow you manage to wheeze out, “ditto.”

“I’ll see you around town, yes? At least-- I hope I will? I would really like to hear your thoughts on the whole book.”

“Of course! I’ll read it tonight!”

“It’s a bit long, you don’t have to--”

“No, seriously. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I don’t want to hold up the line, but-- congratulations again, Elliott. I’m really happy for you.”

You tuck the book under your arm and duck out from the line so that Penny can move forward. The sun is already starting to set. As soon as you’re outside, you open Camellia Station to read the handwritten note within the cover.

FOR MY INSPIRATION, MY MOTIVATION, MY MUSE, WITHOUT WHOM THIS BOOK COULD NOT BE POSSIBLE,  
I PRAY SOMEDAY THAT I CAN REPAY YOU FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR ME, BUT I FEAR THAT, FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE, WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS HOW DEEPLY I FEEL. FOR NOW I MUST SETTLE WITH A HEARTFELT MESSAGE AND MY MOST SINCERE GRATITUDE. AS YOU IMMERSE YOURSELF IN THESE PAGES OR EVEN GAZE AT THE SPINE UPON YOUR SHELF, I HOPE THAT PRIDE GLOWS WITHIN YOU, AS THIS IS AS MUCH YOUR STORY AS IT IS MINE. YOU HAVE DONE MORE FOR ME THAN YOU COULD EVER KNOW.   
YOURS, ELLIOTT


End file.
